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Chnstmas 
in Spam 

or 

ilariquita’a Sag 
of Sptoiriog 


BY 

SARAH GERTRUDE POMEROY 

♦I 

ILLUSTRATED 

By BERTHA D. HOXIE 



BOSTON 

DANA ESTES ^ COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS 




Copyright, igio 

By Dana Estes & Company 
All rights reserved 


CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


Electrotyped and Printed by 
THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C. H. Simonds Co., Boston, U. S.A . 


CCI.A268127 


CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 

OR 

MARIQUITA’S DAY OF REJOICING 

TF your mother is willing, I will take you for a walk with 

1 me,” said Senor Vasquez, smiling indulgently at his twin 
son and daughter. Anitia clapped her hands in delight as she 
ran after Antonio in search 
of their mother. They found 
her in the despensa, the 
store-house of many delicious 
dainties, as she was busy 
giving out the supplies for the 
holiday supper that evening. 

She followed them into the 
patio, however, and gave 
them the desired permission. 

It’s such a busy day,” she 
said to their father, “ that I 
am quite willing to spare 
them for the afternoon and 
a walk with you will be a 
great treat.” 

They made a pretty picture as they went down the narrow 
street, stopping once to wave their hands to the dark-eyed 
young mother who watched them from behind the barred win- 
dows of their quaint old house. More than one passer-by 
glanced after them half-enviously, for the erect young military 

5 



6 


CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


man with his little son and daughter on either side was good 
to look upon, and their merry laughter was contagious. 

To tell the truth light hearts were not plentiful in old Seville 
that December day, for within the year the war with America 
had drained the resources of Spain and many people mourned 
for soldiers dead ’neath Cuban skies. 

But there was great rejoicing in the home of Sehor Vasquez, 
for the father of the household 
had gone through the fierce cam- 
paign without injury, and al- 
though his term of service was 
not completed, his regiment had 
already landed in Spain and he 
had obtained a two weeks’ leave 
of absence for the holidays. 

Antonio and Anitia were wild 
with delight when their father 
came home and had scarcely let 
him out of their sight since his 
arrival. Antonio was constantly 
begging for stories of the war, 
and Anitia listened too, vaguely 
fascinated, although she shud- 
dered sometimes when she thought of the pale, sick soldiers 
she had seen brought home from those same battle-fields. Her 
brother was always talking of the time when he should grow 
up and enter the army. Anitia couldn’t understand his eagerness; 
and she wondered if he would have been as anxious, if he had 
helped her mother make bandages and hospital supplies. She 
hadn’t forgotten the long hours when she had worked patiently, 
proud to be able to help the soldiers a little, while Antonio was 
marching and counter-marching with his boy friends. But the 



CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


7 

war was over now — Anitia drew a sigh of relief as she realized 
it and clung more tightly to her father’s hand. 

It was the afternoon of the day before Christmas and the 
sunny plazas and busy market-places were gay with holiday 
wares. It seemed as if the whole city were in the streets, for the 
laborers had all left their work at twelve and a good-natured 
throng jostled the little party of three. 

The children asked for a story this afternoon, so their father 
turned in the direction of the river and they walked away from 
the busy crowd towards the Triana bridge. From there they 
could look up and down the yellow Guadalquivir and fancy they 
could see again the stately galleons which rode there of old. 
They were familiar with the traditions of these ships and the 
cargoes they had brought from over the seas in the days when 
Seville was a busy port, but they loved to hear them again from 
their father’s lips. 

“ Where shall we go next? ” asked their father when they had 
spent some moments on the bridge. I’ll give you each a wish. 
What shall we do, Anitia? ” 

The little girl answered rather shyly. I was just thinking,’’ 
she said, ‘‘ how much I would like to carry some good things for 
the holiday to the poor sick soldiers in the hospitals.” 

“ Well spoken, my dear, it’s a thought worthy of a soldier’s 
daughter,” said Senor Vasquez. And what is your wish, 
my son? ” he asked. 

When we have been to the hospital, may we buy something 
for Mariquita? ” asked Antonio. 

“ Indeed you may, you shall take her whatever you think will 
make her most happy,” answered their father. 

“ Oh, I’m so glad,” cried Anitia. It was good you thought 
of it, Antonio. Mariquita was so kind to help me make my 
nacimento,” she explained to her father. '' It certainly was splen- 


8 


CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


did,” said Senor Vasquez. Anitia, pleased with his praise, 
thought gratefully of the many hours her mother’s friend had 
spent helping her make the plaster representation of the birth 
of Christ which every Spanish child prepares at Christmas time. 
Thanks to Mariquita’s deft fingers, the little figures of the Baby, 
St. Joseph and the Blessed Virgin had been fashioned most ar- 
tistically and Anitia might well be proud of her nacimento. 

“ First, we will buy whatever you wish to take to the hospital,” 
said Senor Vasquez. They had left the river behind them and 
were back in the city streets again. Soon they paused in a busy 
market-place where swarthy peasants were displaying their 
wares and a crowd of purchasers were buying holiday dainties. 

There was such a bewildering display of good things that it 
was hard to make a selection. The luscious golden oranges of 
Andalusia were piled high in pyramids and Anitia said she 
wanted some for the soldiers. Antonio suggested that they add 
some nuts from Granada and the market-man displayed some 
fresh dates from Tangiers which their father added to their store. 

Both children looked longingly at the various sweetmeats, 
dried and candied, which were shown so invitingly, but their 
father told them they would not be good for sick people. He 
bought some turmi, however, and laughed with the salesman at 
the children’s delight when he had the parcel of this favorite 
Christmas candy wrapped separately for their own use. 

The shops were decorated with ribbons and streamers, while 
all kinds of wares were given a holiday air by their decorations. 
Even the sausages were gaily displayed and the folds of red and 
yellow serge which the peasant women buy gave an added note of 
color. 

There was laughter and gay talk. Sometimes a dark-eyed 
girl danced gracefully while she tossed her tambourine, and in 
other places the low monotonous scraping of the zambomba 





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CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


II 


accompanied the strains of the Christmas hymn with its familiar 
old refrain. 


“ This night is the good night, 

And therefore is no night of rest.’* 

Soon they came to the hospital where the children had fre- 
quently been with their mother. The portress who opened the 
door for them seemed to know their errand without being told 
and held out her hands for their gifts. The children could see 
many baskets of fruit and flowers in the corridor behind her. 
She recognized them at once and told Senor Vasquez that she had 
just sent a messenger for him. A sick soldier had been asking 
for him and would like to see him at once. 

Antonio and his sister were told to wait for their father in 
the courtyard, and he immediately followed a sweet-faced nun 
down the long corridor to the wards. 

Left alone, the children amused themselves by watching the 
doorway, for the portress was kept busy admitting visitors. 
Some had come to visit their sick friends, but many people came 
to leave fruit and gifts as the children had done. 

What shall we buy for Mariquita? ’’ said Antonio suddenly. 

Anitia shook her head doubtfully. “ I am afraid there is 
nothing she cares for very much except to have Don Francisco 
back again,’’ she said. What do you suppose has become of 
him?” 

“ I don’t wonder Mariquita is sad,” answered her brother. 

It is so long since she has had any word from him.” 

They were both very fond of the young girl who had been 

en deposito ” with their mother for several months, and they 
were greatly interested in her sad love-story which was no 
secret in the family. They knew that Mariquita’s lover, Don 
Francisco, had gone to Cuba with his regiment, and that in his 


12 


CHRISTMAS IN STAIN 


absence her parents had tried to force her to marry an old man 
who was very rich but whom Mariquita hated. 

So she had taken advantage of the Spanish law and, having 
signed a document stating the facts, had been placed by the 
magistrate en deposito ” with Senora Vasquez. It was that 
good lady’s duty to care for her and protect her until her parents 
had time to relent. If they did not agree to allow her to marry 
Don Francisco at the end of the appointed time, she was free to 
do so without her parents’ consent according to Spanish law. 

Senora Vasquez had found Mariquita a great comfort while her 
husband was away, and the children had grown to love her 
dearly, but the poor girl was often sad. She had heard nothing 
from Don Francisco for many weeks, and her parents had tried to 
convince her that he was dead. Still she refused to believe them 
and would not return home or marry as they wished. 

If only Don Francisco would come back for Christmas,” 
cried Anitia. ‘‘ I can think of nothing which would make Mari- 
quita happy except that.” 

“ What do you suppose the sick soldier wanted? ” said An- 
tonio, to change the subject, for tender-hearted Anitia’s eyes 
were filled with tears of sympathy. 

He wanted to tell me some news that will help us to make 
Mariquita happy,” answered their father’s voice. He had come 
up behind them and had heard both questions. 

“ Come with me quickly, for we have no time to lose.” The 
children questioned him eagerly as they hurried along together, 
and he told them all the soldier had said. 

The sick man had been in Don Francisco’s regiment, and many 
nights, by the side of the camp-fire, they had exchanged stories 
of their home and loved ones. Don Francisco had confided to 
him how he longed to return to Spain and marry his Mariquita, 
but the weeks had lengthened into months and still their orders 



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C//J^/STMAS IN SPAIN 


15 


to return had been delayed. When, at length, they landed at 
Cadiz Don Francisco had heard of Mariquita’s plight and, 
impatient of the endless formalities and delays which were more 
than a lover’s impatience could endure, he had left the army 
without leave and started for Seville. But he had been captured 
and imprisoned, for such an infringement of military discipline 
was always severely punished. 

His comrade had sent for Senor Vasquez and told him the 
story, thinking that the news of her lover’s whereabouts might 
cheer Mariquita. 

“ But you must not tell her, children,” cautioned their father. 
“ She would be distressed to know that he is in prison. Do 
not let her know that we have heard any news for a little time. 
Meanwhile, I will see what I can do.” 

He had just finished speaking, when they stopped at an im- 
posing-looking building which their father said was the head- 
quarters of the military governor. The guard at the entrance 
saluted, as they passed, and none of the soldiers prevented their 
advance. Antonio felt very proud of this evidence of their 
father’s importance, for even the door-keeper at the governor’s 
office seemed to recognize that the handsome young officer was a 
person of authority and, very soon, they had permission to enter. 

The governor greeted Senor Vasquez most cordially and spoke 
pleasantly to the children when their father explained that his 
business was so urgent that he had been unable to take them 
home, before making his call. 

Antonio’s eyes were fastened admiringly on his splendid 
uniform, but Anitia saw that his eyes were kind, and she felt sure 
that he would help Mariquita, when he knew about her trouble. 

Both children knew that it was the custom to pardon many 
prisoners on Christmas Day, and they suspected what their 
father’s request would be. 


i6 


CHRISTMAS IN STAIN 


First Senor Vasquez asked for the records of Don Francisco’s 
regiment and found that the soldier’s story was not only true, 
but that his friend had been transferred to a military prison 
in their own city. All this he showed to the governor, telling 
the story he had just heard and explaining about Mariquita. 

The governor looked very grave and sat thinking silently for 
several minutes after Senor Vasquez had ceased speaking. Then 
he said, “ It is our custom, as you know, to visit all the soldier- 
prisoners on noche-buena and to pardon all those who are in 
gaol for light offences. But Don Francisco’s offence is not a light 
one, and I fear it would not do to overlook it.” 

The twins had been sitting very quietly in the corner, but at 
the governor’s words, Antonio forgot his awe of the great man 
and interrupted him. “ Oh, sir,” he said, “ couldn’t you pardon 
him for Mariquita’s sake? She has worked so hard making 
bandages and packing comforts for the soldiers.” “ I’ve heard 
her say many times that, in spite of all her suffering, she would 
send Don Francisco to war again, if Spain needed him,” added 
Anitia shyly. 

Their father and the governor were both startled, for they 
had quite forgotten the children in the interests at stake. Now 
the governor smiled encouragingly. “ Suppose you tell me 
about Mariquita and what you have done at home during these 
months of warfare,” he said quite kindly. 

Thus encouraged, the children did not lack for words and 
they told about their friend very enthusiastically. When they 
had finished, the governor glanced at their father with an amused 
smile. “ It certainly would be a shame to keep such a patriotic 
young woman waiting any longer for her soldier-lover,” he 
said. “ After all,” he added, “ although it is true that Don 
Francisco’s offence is not a light one, there are circumstances 
which explain the case. His war-record is such a good one that 









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CHRISTMAS IN STAIN 


19 


I think we may safely pardon him.” As he spoke, he reached for 
pen and paper, and in a few moments had signed and sealed an 
official-looking document which he handed to Sehor Vasquez. 
The children thanked him very politely, but they could hardly 
restrain their impatience until they found themselves in the 
street again. 

When their father told them that it was really true and that 
the paper was indeed Don Francisco’s pardon, Anitia danced 
for very happiness. 

But you must not tell Mariquita,” cautioned their father. 

We will let her lover tell the good news, himself.” So the 
children promised to keep the secret carefully and not spoil 
the surprise he had in store for her. 

They stopped on the way home to buy some great bunches 
of scarlet geranium and masses of heliotrope for their mother, 
for in the warm climate of southern Spain these blossoms answer 
the purpose of Christmas holly and mistletoe. They bought 
Mariquita a flagon of cologne for Anitia remembered that she 
was very fond of the fragrant toilet-water, smelling of orange- 
blossoms which is manufactured in their own city. But, as 
Antonio said quite truly, it didn’t make much difference what 
they carried her when her best gift was still in store for her. 

At last they were at home again and the children scampered 
through the delicately wrought iron gates which separated their 
home from the street, across the marble patio, or courtyard 
with its silvery fountain in the centre, up the stairs to the winter 
living-rooms. For, in Seville, the people live up-stairs in the 
winter and move down-stairs in the summer, when they wish 
to be cooler. 

The children were left alone with Mariquita while their father 
and mother talked together in another room. They knew that 
Senor Vasquez was telling his wife about their adventures, and 


20 


CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


they had hard work to keep the good news from Mariquita 
when she questioned them about their walk. She thanked them 
for the cologne and listened to their account of buying presents 
for the sick soldiers, but although she smiled bravely, they could 
see that she was unhappy, and tender-hearted little Anitia pitied 
her so genuinely that she had to run away lest she should tell 
the great secret. 

Their father went out again soon and their mother told them 
quietly that he had gone to the prison to secure Don Francisco’s 
liberty. Of course they were very impatient for his arrival, 
but soon their aunts and uncles and all the family relatives 
began to gather for the Christmas Eve supper which is always 
a gala event. There were no outside guests, except Mariquita, 
for this evening festivity is purely a family affair. 

When their father returned, the supper was served, and it 
seemed as if the jollity was at its height when Dolores their 
good old ayo (nurse) appeared to take them to bed. It was 
very hard to leave the lights and flowers and smiling faces, 
but neither of the children objected, for they had been promised 
a great treat if they would go early to bed. For the first time 
in their lives they were going to the Misa del Gallo” or 

Cock-crow Mass ” which is universally celebrated throughout 
Spain, at midnight, on Christmas Eve. 

But Anitia was not at all sleepy, and she begged Dolores to 
tell her some stories of her own childhood until she could fall 
asleep. So good-natured Dolores told her some of the quaint 
customs which were still practised in her old home, a little old- 
fashioned town in southern Andalusia. 

“ Did you go to the ‘ Misa del Gallo ’ when you were as 
little as I am? ” inquired Anitia. The little girl was quite 
impressed by the distinction she enjoyed. 

Yes, I was just your age when I went for the first time,” said 


CHRISTMAS IN STAIN 


21 


Dolores. I well remember the gorgeous procession when the 
beautiful Sehora Juanita, our mistress, went to church with my 
father and all her other men-servants going in procession before 
her. Each one played a different instrument and I thought 
the sight was splendid.” 

“ Oh, will they do that to-night? ” cried the little girl in ex- 
citement. Dolores laughed at the idea and told her that there 
were too many grand ladies in Seville to keep up such a cus- 
tom. It is only practised in little 
towns where there is only one noble 
family. 

‘‘ I remember another custom, too,” 
she said thoughtfully, as she stroked 
Anitia’s soft black hair. “ In my 
little village there was no room in any 
house without its picture of the 
Saviour, and there was hardly a 
maiden who did not kneel before 
her picture of the Babe on noche- 
buena and hope to see His Mother. 

For they say that the Virgin visits 
every house where she can find a 
picture of her Son, on Christmas Eve, and brings blessings 
in her train.” 

I have a picture of the Babe, right here in my room,” 
murmured little Anitia drowsily. 

“ Oh, Anitia, Anitia, you do not need her kind blessing as 
much as I do,” said a sweet voice brokenly, as Mariquita buried 
her face in the pillow by the sleeping child. Then it was good 
Dolores’ turn to comfort the lonely girl who had stolen away from 
the gay family party and had been sitting in the darkness listen- 
ing to the stories of old-world Spain. 



22 


CHR/STMAS IN SPAIN 


It seemed only a few moments to Anitia, but it was really more 
than three hours later when she woke from her long nap. For a 
moment she lay still in her little white bed wondering why she 
should waken with such a strange feeling of anticipation in what 
seemed the middle of the night. Then she saw Mariquita kneel- 
ing in the moonlight with her face upturned towards the picture 
of Mary and her Babe which hung on Anitia’s wall. 

The little girl remembered everything at once — the stories 

that Dolores had told 
her and the sadness of 
Mariquita’s heart. Then 
she forgot all else in her 
longing to comfort the 
sweet girl, who had been 
so kind to her. She 
slipped softly out of 
bed and, running noise- 
lessly across the floor, 
put her arms around 
Mariquita’s neck. At 
the gentle embrace, the 
girl looked up half- 
startled, almost believ- 
ing that the old legend 
had come true and that the Virgin had really come. But 
Anitia kissed her before she could speak. 

“ Oh, Mariquita,” she said, “ you heard Dolores’ story, I know 
you did. But don’t be sorry because it is only I, for the Virgin 
has sent you her blessing, indeed she has.” 

The girl caught the child in her arms. “ Little comfort,” 
she murmured. 

Just at that moment the soft tinkle of a guitar commenced 



CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


23 


beneath their window and the sound of a man’s rich voice in 
song. 

“ This night is the good night, 

And therefore is no night of rest.” 

The words were the familiar lines of the Christmas song 
which the children had heard in the streets, but the voice was 
more familiar still to Mariquita. She gave a low glad cry and 
ran to the window. One look below and she had turned to run 
swiftly down the stairs to the summer apartment on the lower 
floor, where she could stretch out her hand to her lover between 
the bars that guarded the casement. For it was indeed Don 
Francisco who had returned at last. 

Anitia told Antonio all about it while their mother and Dolores 
were making them ready. They were both so excited that they 
could hardly drink the warm chocolate which had been prepared 
for them, and they were quite wide awake when it was time 
to start for the cathedral. 

Through the patio and out into the narrow street went the 
family party, Mariquita the happiest of all. The children 
had passed through the same streets many times, but they seemed 
unfamiliar in the semi-darkness with their glimpses of lighted 
houses through uncurtained windows and across deserted patios. 
The sound of many feet, all hastening in the same direction, 
reechoed through the streets, and the murmur of many voices 
rose on the midnight air. 

Antonio and Anitia had visited the cathedral often in the 
day-time, but they had never been there at night. It seemed 
like a strange wonderful place when they first caught sight of 
it beneath the starry sky, in the shadow of the Giralda — that 
beautiful square tower built by the Moors so many centuries 
ago. It seemed to them that the Santa Maria and the other 


24 


CHRISTMAS IN STAIN 


bronze bells in the ancient belfry pealed more joyfully than 
usual. 

Within the cathedral it was all more wonderful still. The 
twinkling lights glimmered on painted frescos and sculptured 
saints and penetrated the mysterious shadows of the aisles. 
Thousands of candles blazed on the high altar, scores of priests 
and acolytes went noiselessly to and fro while, now and then, 
the tinkle of the golden mass-bells sounded overhead. 

Then the celebrated twin organs pealed forth, softly at first, 
then louder and still louder, answering each other and joining 
in chorus in the glad paean of the Adeste Fideles, the ancient 
Christmas hymn of the church. Sad hearts were lightened and 
sorrow was forgotten, for in that glad and triumphant song the 
poorest and the richest alike rejoiced. 

The great congregation did not seem strange to the children, 
for they were used to seeing nuns and gypsies, matadors and 
noble gentlemen, kneel side by side in the vast cathedral. In all 
the multitude there was no happier heart than Mariquita’s. 
Although she followed the service devoutly, her eyes were con- 
stantly seeking those of the bronzed young soldier who knelt in 
the shadow of a near-by column, and the folds of her lace mantilla 
framed a radiant face. 

When the service was over, the family party separated at the 
cathedral door and the children walked home with their parents 
and Mariquita. It seemed strange to go to bed again for the 
second time in one evening, but, this time, neither Antonio nor 
Anitia needed any story-telling to put them to sleep. The whole 
household was soon quiet, and when the watchman went his 
rounds a little later not one of them heard his cry, — 

Ave Maria purissima; las dos; y sereno.” 

It was late on Christmas morning when they were awakened 
by the warm sunshine streaming into the uncurtained windows. 




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CffJ^ISTMAS IN SPAIN 


27 


There was a slight chill in the air, but the palms and orange trees 
in the patio were green as summer foliage and the skies were clear 
and blue. The children thought it was perfect Christmas 
weather, for, though the distant Sierras were snow-capped, they 
were not used to the ice and snow in winter which is common in 
the northern part of their country. 

They had no gifts nor did they expect any, for Spanish children 
wait until the Feast of the Three Kings in January for their 
presents. They took great pleasure, however, in the gifts they 
made to others. They had a little present prepared for each 
house servant, and when they sat down to breakfast they found 
several little verses headed ‘‘ A Happy Christmas ” which had 
been left by humble petitioners who hoped to be remembered 
at the Christmas season. Sehora Vasquez was used to such 
appeals, and she had a number of little gifts waiting for the 
children to distribute. 

Anitia watched for the postman, of whom she was very fond, 
and gladly ran to present his gift. Antonio was quite as eager 
to remember his friend the newsboy, and there were many others 
whom they were pleased to make happy. It seemed such a 
pleasant way to spend Christmas morning and the time of gift- 
giving passed too quickly. 

There were other visitors, also, whose coming added to the 
excitement of the day. Young Senor Vasquez had several 
tenants and, according to tradition, all these must come to greet 
him and bring their rent on Christmas morning. Very few 
brought money, but one presented a barrel of grapes, another a 
cask of finest olive-oil, and funniest of all were the peasants 
from the country who brought their offerings in the form of live 
pigs and turkeys. Of course each one was received most politely, 
given a Christmas box and sent away content. 

Then came the midday luncheon which the children had been 


28 


CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


anticipating. There was almond soup and truffled turkey 
with roasted chestnuts and Spanish sweetmeats. In fact 
they had all the good things that were appropriate to Christmas 
Day, and nothing was lacking to make their holiday meal com- 
plete. 

After the afternoon siesta, it was time for another walk, and 
this time both their parents went with them for a stroll under 
the elms of the beautiful Alameda, a street which is lined with 
splendid palaces on either side. Everybody was out for a prom- 
enade and they met many friends. Then they continued their 
walk in the gardens of the Alcazar, the beautiful palace of which 
all Seville is proud. Here their father told them more stories 
of the building of the palace in the days when the Moors held 
Seville as their own, by means of the heavy fortified walls 
which have long since fallen in ruins. But the children preferred 
the tales of their own people and made him tell other stories 
of the beautiful Queen Isabella who once held court there. 
Antonio and Anitia were home-loving children and they thought 
no city in the world could be more beautiful than their own 
sunny Seville. 

The hours passed too quickly. It seemed to the children that 
the day was only fairly begun when the afternoon shadows 
began to lengthen and their walk was over. When they reached 
home, they found Mariquita impatient to tell them her good 
news. She said she was the happiest girl in all Seville, for her 
parents had relented and she was going home to be formally 
betrothed to Don Francisco. In fact she was quite ready to go 
and was only waiting to bid them good-bye. 

It was hard to have her leave them and Anitia could scarcely 
keep back the tears when she thought that Mariquita would not 
live with them any longer. But she smiled again at the prospect 
of the wedding in the near future, for Mariquita declared that 


CHRISTMAS IN SPAIN 


29 

Don Francisco’s brave little “ defensores ” should be numbered 
first among her wedding guests. 

So the Christmas Day ended happily for all, and two tired 
children were glad when nightfall came. 

“ It’s only a week until New Year’s,” said Anitia, “ and 
then Mariquita will be a bride.” 

And in another week comes the Feast of the Three Kings,” 
said her brother. You know that is the day that the Wise Men 
pass by on their way to visit the Ghrist-child. We mustn’t forget 
to put some straw in our shoes and place them outside where 
the Magi’s horses can see them.” 

Of course we won’t forget,” answered his sister, reproach- 
fully, for you know, Antonio, I think the happiest part of 
our holiday has been when we were making gifts to others.” 

And with this wise little speech, Anitia said good-night rather 
sleepily, quite unconscious that she had found the secret of real 
Christmas happiness which so many seek in vain. 


THE END. 


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